


Afternoon Gold

by Hstaya



Series: Phantom one-shots [1]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humour, just enjoying a nice afternoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4467470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hstaya/pseuds/Hstaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer. Warm breezes, cool grass, water fights and sunsets spent on rooftops. Always better with your best friends. Even better still when none of you are sporting burns or fractures.</p><p>The fingers relieving you of an ache in your lower back are welcome too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Gold

**Author's Note:**

> These one-shots are really fun to write. There will probably be more coming, but for now I hope you enjoy. :)  
> Set about 3 years in the future, and implied Danny/Sam, but it's really only if you squint. Set in the same universe as "Green Stains", so it's a mild AU in which neither Vlad's nor Danny's identity were revealed (even to Valerie).

When your life consists of constant motion, one fleeting moment rushing into the next, one scream for help after another, all illuminated by the ectoplasm staining your shirt and the thrum of blood in your ears--  
\--you really begin to appreciate the cotton-candy clouds shimmering with afternoon gold above you.  
Summer. Warm breezes, cool grass, water fights and sunsets spent on rooftops. Always better with your best friends. Even better still when none of you are sporting burns or fractures.

The fingers relieving you of an ache in your lower back are welcome too. 

Tucker sits off to one side, pulling apart some tech you had managed to swipe from Plasmius, trying to figure out what it did and how it worked one discarded screw after another. You’re about to tell him to forget it, it’s too lovely an afternoon to worry about what the old frootloop’s conjuring up in his lab, but Sam presses into a particularly sore muscle and you melt against her. Judging by the small chuckles coming from both of them you assume your vocal cords have betrayed you. Your suspicions are confirmed when Sam rubs a thumb against your spine and you hear yourself groan. Tucker barely holds in the laugh this time, and you shoot him a half-hearted glare, but the look quickly dissolves when Sam presses harder into the muscle above your hips.

“If I didn’t know better,” you manage, voice deep and throaty as you feel yourself relaxing, “I’d say you two were conspiring against me.”  
“What, Sam’s lulling you into a false sense of security so I can use Vlad’s latest weapon against you?” Tucker grins, leaning back on his hands and taking off his hat to fan himself.  
“Even if we were,” Sam says, a cheeky glint making her lavender eyes sparkle, “Would you really mind?”  
She punctuates the question by kneading the flesh on either side of a damaged vertebra low on your spine. You moan and sink into her, tilting your head to nuzzle into her neck.

“Priceless!” Tuck roars with laughter, “Oh, if only Amity Park could see their ghost hero now!”  
“S’not that funny,” you mutter into Sam’s neck. You feel her throat vibrate as she chuckles.  
“He has a soft spot around where Vlad blasted his spine a few years ago,” she explains. “Gets him every time.”  
You open your mouth to protest but your traitorous body steals your words from you. Sam is an expert on your biology by now, as her hands are currently proving. Everything from stitching wounds that keep turning intangible to soothing plasma ray burns that boil your flesh – if you’ve been hit by it, Sam’s mended it like patchwork.

Those years of practice also mean she knows exactly how to both wind you up and, as she is doing now, unwind you until you can barely move of your own free will. There is an indignant part of you pouting in a corner with its arms crossed, but a much more dominant part of your psyche is begging for Sam to press her thumbs into the soft spot on your back again, because yes your hips are aching and Sam seems to be telepathically aware of this but boy had her fingers digging into the flesh around your spine felt good. With Sam at your back, you doubt you could even shoot an ectoblast at the _Box Ghost_. You nuzzle further into Sam’s neck and judging by the shifting of her tendons you imagine she’s smiling.

While in your ghost form you never get cramps or muscle spasms, but as soon as you revert back to human the aches often become unbearable. That was part of the reason you’d been more ghost than man lately. While school was out, the less pain you had to endure the better. You were only human when absolutely necessary, which of course had Sam and Tucker worried. You had given the excuse that you didn’t want to consume a chemist’s worth of painkillers while on break, but of course there’s-always-a-natural-alternative-Sam had sat you down and demanded you turn human and whip off your shirt. Your brother-from-another-mother hadn’t been of much help, shrugging with a grin and pulling out his tools from his satchel.

Not that you are currently regretting any of that.

You shift so that Sam’s hands are closer to the soft spot on your spine. With a quiet chuckle she takes the hint and her hands glide up your back gently, rubbing circles into it, gradually pressing harder as she feels the muscle soften and give way. Judging from the silence, you assume Tucker has absorbed himself in his work, as he is prone to do. Despite the dying light the breeze is still warm, hailing another humid night but also likely a clear sky. You’d be able to go star gazing while on patrol tonight. Maybe you’d bring Sam. Deft fingers press hard against your spine and this time the moan that follows has your consent. On second thought, maybe you’d let the Fentons and Valerie take care of the ghosts tonight.


End file.
